Shore Break by Chris Pitman turns the tide of modern theatre, which has been swept up in a current of layers, technology, and novelty, and instead returns us to the simple purity of one player, one light, and one story. In an era where theatre productions often feel like sensory overload, this poetic monodrama cuts through the noise and brings us back to the raw essence of storytelling.
Staged by Brink Productions at the Adelaide Festival Centre, Shore Break is a meditation on isolation, masculinity, and the human need for connection. Pitman’s solo performance is nothing short of gut-wrenching, portraying a man sitting on the edge of the world—quite literally, perched on the shore with his surfboard, gazing out at the sea. It’s just him, his memories, and the ocean, which becomes a silent partner in his search for meaning.
The ocean, with its ever-changing moods, mirrors the inner turmoil of Pitman’s character, a man who reflects on the people he’s loved and lost, while feeling the pull of the waves. The line from the play, “you surf the lines the waves give you,” resonates as both a reflection of surfing and life itself. In crafting Shore Break, Pitman seems to have done the same. Like a surfer reading the water, Pitman has taken the raw material of interviews with outliers—those who have chosen to live isolated lives on the coast—and crafted their stories into a seamless, haunting narrative. It’s as if he simply “surfed the lines his subjects gave him,” yet with the skill and precision of a seasoned rider, finessed every word to perfection. You can hear him recount this process in our recent interview with him: Chris Pitman From Beaches To The Stage.
For those of us who know the ocean, there’s something about the rhythm of the waves that draws us in—there’s comfort, yes, but also the power to unearth something deep within. Pitman captures this perfectly. His portrayal of a man seeking solace in the water while wrestling with loneliness, rejection, and regret hits hard, like the wave you didn’t see coming.
Pitman’s script is sharp, poetic, and steeped in truth. His writing speaks to the vulnerability that many men feel but rarely express. And while the story of a solitary man at the water’s edge could easily fall into cliché, Pitman dodges that wave entirely, delivering something raw and real, including the ultimate insight that for all his seeking of solitude, it took being in a relationship with another to shine a light on his real self.
Perhaps some of the simplicity and the complexity has arisen because Chris yielded to input from his co-directors, Chelsea Griffith and Chris Drummond. Both brought different rips and tides of insight and the result is an interesting sea of emotion and posture; never a dull moment, not even in moments of calm.
In the end, Shore Break isn’t just a play about surfing or isolation. It’s about the quiet truths we avoid, the roles we play, and the delicate balance between connection and solitude.
In a world still reeling from the father hunger that Steve Biddulph wrote about in his timeless book, Manhood, Shore Break stings and surely any tears are due to grains of memories that might just get whipped into our eyes.
My advice: Buy a ticket, sit alone, let the story wash over you, then settle down next to someone who’s experienced it, too, and just be present with them. The lines will surely come. Follow them then.
Shore Break runs until September 7, 2024, at the Space Theatre at the Adelaide Festival Centre.